Joyce was watching me in bewilderment. ‘His poor daughter,’ she said. ‘What a thing.’

‘Do you know of any others?’ I asked her.

She paused. ‘I know of others ’e’s bin with.’ She rolled her eyes to the ceiling with a hard laugh. ‘Thought I was the one and only, didn’ I? Jackie Flint – up at eight court. Lost a baby a month ago.’

‘And she said it was his?’

Joyce looked at the floor, blushing. ‘She’s a pal of mine. We was both on the line at Kemp’s.’ She raised her eyes to me and they were red and filling with tears again. ‘I never meant for it to ’appen. ’E’s not like the others, you see. I can’t say ’e forced ’isself on me or anything like that. ’E just has a way of making you feel sort of special – like the only person in the world. I can’t explain it to you. I s’pose I were in love with ’im. I’d ’ave done anything ’e wanted.’

‘I know,’ I told her gently. ‘Don’t worry – I believe you. I haven’t come here to judge you, Joyce. But I would like you to tell me one more thing. D’you know when I’m likely to find him around here?’

Chapter 23

Silence began to take root between Douglas and me. Silence which I began to imagine might never be broken. There were days when almost the only times we spoke were in response to my mother. That was when Douglas was there at all. He worked every possible hour, late into the evenings. Isolation and work were familiar havens for him.

I began to panic. I was being punished and I felt I deserved no punishment. I imagined bringing up a child in this silence.

In October it was Douglas’s birthday.

‘Will you be free tomorrow night?’ I asked the morning before. We were both dressing, Douglas careful and immaculate as ever. ‘I thought I’d book a table at the Midland. It’d be nice to celebrate properly.’

I’d caught Douglas’s morning mood, brisk, already with the aura of the newsroom about him, not welcoming intimacy. ‘I can be. I’ll check.’ He fastened his tie. ‘Good idea of yours.’

I moved forward to embrace him but he kept me at a distance, allowing only a light kiss on the cheek. ‘Breakfast. I need to be off.’

The next evening I put on the soft wool dress I had worn after our wedding. I wanted Douglas to remember it; the dress, the day. He was late arriving, but not enough for me to have become edgy. I waited in the bar, self-consciously a woman alone. When he finally came limping across the smooth carpet I met his eyes and smiled. We had spent too many days avoiding each other’s glance. Douglas could see I was making a special effort, and with an intensity of relief which surprised me, I realized he was going to respond.

‘Sorry I’m late.’ He returned my smile and kissed my cheek. There was a glow about him, some pent-up excitement. ‘Just fetch a drink. Another for you?’